


Good Boy

by heeroluva



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Anal Gaping, Chastity Device, Consent Issues, Dirty Talk, Dom/sub, Fisting, Fucked Up, HYDRA Trash Party, Hallucinations, M/M, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Watersports, Wet & Messy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-19
Updated: 2016-09-19
Packaged: 2018-08-15 22:10:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,024
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8074507
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heeroluva/pseuds/heeroluva
Summary: Bucky's coping mechanism is less than ideal.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Tipsy_Kitty](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tipsy_Kitty/gifts).



> Written as a fill for [this](http://hydratrashmeme.dreamwidth.org/1634.html?thread=3421026#cmt3421026) HTP prompt. 
> 
> So this turned out to be less imaginary friend Brock and more fucked up vivid hallucination of Brock. Enjoy!

On hands and knees, Bucky draws a panting breath as Steve presses two excessively slick fingers into him. A part of Bucky is annoyed because Steve’s favorite silicone-based lube is hell to clean out of his sheets. His cock twitches uselessly in the metal sheath that contains it as Steve presses against his prostate. Balls aching and heavy, Bucky fights against the urge to pull away and press his spread thighs together because he hates this, how spread open and exposed he is.

Bucky must have made a sound because Steve asks, “You alright, Bucky?”

 _Tell him you love it,_ Brock whispers in his ear as his hand trails over the curve of his back.

“I love it,” Bucky moans, fighting against the growing knot in the bit of his stomach. He’s grateful when Brock crawls beneath him and forces his thighs wider, removing any chance he’d have of closing them. Instead he drops down onto his forearms, his back arching in a way that many seem to find appealing, and lets his head fall forward to hang between his arm, his hair brushing against the sheets.

 _Such a pretty little slut,_ Brock says as he tugs at Bucky’s bound cock and balls, wrenching a full body shudder from Bucky as Steve scrapes his fingernails against his prostate.

_Roll your hips. Show him how much you appreciate him taking care of you like this._

Doing as he’s told, Bucky thrusts back on Steve’s fingers, fucking himself on first three and then four fingers, breathing hard as he swallows against the rising bile at the back of his throat from the stretch and burn of it. 

“God, Buck, you look amazing like this, spread open and so needy for me. Can you take more?” Steve asked. “The thought of you stretched around my wrist…”

No, Bucky wants to say, but he bites the word back.

Hand fisting in Bucky’s hair and yanking his head back, Brock forces him to meet his eyes as he asks, _You don’t want to disappoint Steve, do you? After everything he’s done for you?_

No, Bucky doesn’t want that. “Please, Steve,” Bucky makes himself beg. “Anything you want.”

“Shit, Bucky. You can’t say that to a man and expect him to last.”

As Steve pulls his fingers out, Bucky feels relief, but it’s short lived when they return newly slick, Steve’s thumb pressed against his palm as he presses himself knuckles deep and then deeper still.

Sobbing at the stretch, Steve pauses, and Bucky shakes his head wildly. “Don’t stop.”

 _Such a drama queen,_ Brock tuts as he squeezes Bucky’s balls hard enough to draw another sob from him. _This is hardly the biggest thing you’ve had in your ass. Push back. Let him in._

Fighting against his body’s instinctive reaction to fight the unwelcome intrusion, Bucky forces himself to relax, to push back, and as he does so, the thickest part of Steve’s hand slips inside, too fast, too much, spreading him impossible wide. But Brock is right: he's taken bigger; he can take this. Bucky’s breath hisses between his teeth when Steve’s fingers curl into a fist, his knuckles pressing against Bucky’s prostate.

Bucky can’t help the shout that escapes him, the way his soft cock suddenly spurts and dribbles down on Brock and the sheets, not just the white of the cum being milked from his balls, but the piss he can't seem to hold back.

“Jesus, Buck,” Steve says with a moan as the potent scent hits him, and he looks down at Bucky’s leaking cock. “You’re perfect, so perfect for me.”

When Steve presses again, Bucky’s cock releases another stream of fluid.

 _He wants you to beg for it, wants you to feel it for days, but he’s too kind to admit it. Tell him what you need,_ Brock says as he reaches back to press against Bucky’s stretched rim.

“Please, Steve. I need you to fuck me with your fist. Punch fuck me. I want to feel it for days.”

Bucky thinks maybe he’s done it wrong when he hears Steve shift and feels the way that Steve tenses inside him, but that is just the prelude to what is to come. Bucky’s whole body jerks with the force of Steve’s thrust, and Bucky tries his best to brace himself, every breath a sob as his cock spurts with each movement.

Bucky can feel his insides rearranging themselves with the force and depth of Steve’s fist, each thrust sinking deeper yet until his cock dribbles continuously.

_Never could control yourself. Just let it all out now. Show him what a slut you are._

With that Bucky stops fighting it and just lets himself go, kneeling in the growing puddle of piss and cum and lube beneath him.

_Yeah, pet, just like that. You’re such a good boy for me. You want to be a good boy for Steve too. Show him how good you can be._

Yes, Bucky wants to be good for Steve. Maybe if he is good, Steve won’t share him. Steve never hurts him, not really, not in any way he doesn’t ask for. 

Bucky can’t help but flinch when Steve finally pulls out of his abused hole, his body so used to the intrusion that it doesn’t want to let it go. And when the seemingly endless length of Steve’s arm leaves his body he can feel himself gaping open, feels the splash of Steve’s cum against the widespread lips of his ass as Steve jacks off at the sight of his ruined hole. He flinches again when Steve presses his fingers into the mess, when Brock’s slide in alongside Steve’s, slipping into the swollen flesh again with no effort.

_Such a pretty, ruined hole. Such a good boy._

“Such a good boy for me, Bucky,” Steve says, his words echoing Brock’s.

“Yeah, Steve. Your good boy,” Bucky promises as he collapses again Brock’s chest. Bucky is good at doing what he has to do. Steve takes care of him. And if this is what he has to do to stay in Steve’s good graces, he’ll continue to do it.


End file.
